


History Repeats Until Stopped

by afteriwake



Series: Unexpected Legacies [11]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Blessings, Conversations, Curse Breaking, Cursed Village, Curses, Dead People, Drowning, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Ghosts, Harm to Children, Merlin's Descendants, Molly Saves the Day, Molly's Been Demoted, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pregnant Molly, Sherlock Holmes Nearly Drowns, Shotgun Wedding, Trip To The Shore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-01-08 22:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12263412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: When Merlin tells Sherlock and Molly that another one of his descendants is living in a village under a curse and could be in danger, Sherlock and Molly go to the shore to try and break the curse and change history from here forward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelsong87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsong87/gifts).



> This is an answer to an old Spook Me Ficathon prompt I had saved from one of the previous rounds ("Sea Ghost 05" by [rob-art](https://rob-art.deviantart.com) at Deviantart) that I wanted to incorporate into this series:
> 
> [](https://rob-art.deviantart.com/art/sea-ghost-05-62634634)  
>   
> 
> 
> It is also a belated answer for Sherlolly Spring Fling for **angelsong87** that had to wait until WIP Big Bang was over. 

“A trip to the shore?” Molly asked, raising an eyebrow. “At this time of year? This is another weird case trip, isn’t it?”

Merlin sighed. “She’s too perceptive,” he said, turning to Sherlock, who wore a smirk on his face.

“I told you the story of a holiday wouldn’t fool her,” Sherlock said before turning back to his mobile. “She’d be more interested in a holiday than a case but it needs to be a _real_ holiday.”

“Oh, you do know me well,” Molly said, looking over at Sherlock. “Just once I’d like to go somewhere and just _stumble_ onto one of the weird cases instead of going someplace _for_ a weird case.”

“That’s my girl,” Sherlock said. He stowed his mobile in his pocket and looked at her. “So. Not worth your time?”

Molly’s look towards him turned speculative. “Why? Don’t _you_ want to take it?”

“I hate the shore,” Sherlock said. “I...” he trailed off, then decided there was no shame in this tidbit of information. “I can’t swim in anything other than a pool.”

“Then we won’t go,” Molly said with a decisive nod. “Surely it’s not a bad case, that us not taking will--”

“Drowned children,” Merlin said.

“You didn’t mention that before,” Sherlock said with a frown. 

“I’d wanted to ease into it,” Merlin replied. “Every ten years, the children in the village are compelled by some force to go to the shore. Every year, one doesn’t come back at daybreak and their body washes up about a week later. It’s set to happen again this weekend.”

“Sherlock...” Molly said, trailing off as she gave him a now familiar look. He knew this was a case she would solve on her own if he didn’t go with her, and her magical powers were nowhere as strong or as practiced as his. He could very well lose her if she got tangled up with the wrong entity.

He knew then that as soon as possible, they would be at the shore.

“Can you get the time away from your post?” he asked. And then he frowned. “You’re home early. Why?”

Molly tilted her head slightly. “I’ve accepted a change in my position,” she said. “I’m no longer head of the department. I’m just simply a specialist registrar.”

Sherlock frowned. “That’s unacceptable,” he said.

“Mike knows what I do, and he’s figured out my secret. And while he’s keeping it, I’m not about to tell my superiors that I’m descended from Morgan Le Fey and you use my powers to supplement yours so that’s why I jet off and take early days. As just a staff member, I have more freedom in my schedule.” She wrung her hands at that. “Especially as I’m simply limiting my availability to emergencies and your cases.”

This information was not what Sherlock had expected. Yes, he was pleased she would still be his go-to pathologist, but this was nonsense. A demotion? And it was his fault? He would fix this, or he would have Mycroft fix this. There was no reason she should shelve her career that she had worked hard for because of him.

 _You knew this would happen,_ a taunting voice said in the back of his head. _You knew there was a chance once she developed powers she would lose more than you ever did._

He decided to ignore that voice and focus on the situation at hand. “Why does this concern us? I mean, are there clues that this is something that’s...” He trailed off, groping for the words.

“It’s a curse,” Merlin said. “And it’s a powerful one. Any number of the more superstitious elders in the village have called in people to strip the village of the curse, and all have been unsuccessful.” He sat in John’s favoured seat and then watched as Molly moved to stand behind Sherlock, who was sitting in his chair. “And there is one of my ancestors at risk this year. A young girl, Phryne Macmillan. And I think she’s starting to develop powers, which may make her an enticing target to take.”

“Why can’t you work on it?” Molly asked, narrowing her eyes. “You’re vastly more powerful than either of us.”

He looked down. “For the same reason I couldn’t stop Moriarty from cursing Sherlock. Until I’m sure they have powers, I can’t directly interfere in their lives. Protect them from the outskirts, yes, but I can’t break curses. That is the curse that was laid on me when Camelot fell.”

Sherlock nodded. “We’ll do our best to break the curse,” he said. “Both of them.”

Merlin’s head jerked up. “You can’t possibly think you can break my curse,” he said.

“You’ve said before I have almost a much power as you, or I will with time,” Sherlock said. “That means I have the potential to be at least as powerful as your contemporaries. I can at least _try_.”

“And two magic users working in tandem betters the odds,” Molly said, setting her hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “But we’ll concentrate on saving your descendant first.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said. He stood then, looking nervous. “I have the feeling the two of you need to talk so I’ll be on my way.” And with that, he transported himself out of the sitting room.

Sherlock wanted to reach up and cover Molly’s hand with his own, but he hesitated too long and Molly moved away, occupying Merlin’s vacated seat. She seemed to curl into herself a bit. “You should get your old position back,” Sherlock said quietly. “These cases aren’t worth throwing away your career.”

“There are other perks,” Molly said. “I have time to write research papers now and do lectures, and other things I’ve wanted to do. I could even conceivably teach at a university associated with Barts, if I wanted.” She pulled her feet up on the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. “What you do...what _we_ do...it’s important. It could be the most important thing I ever help do. And if it reverses your immortality while...”

He was up out of his chair in an instant, all hesitation gone, and he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss into one of her palms. “Nothing will happen to you, not while I breathe,” he said. “I promise.”

“You do?” she asked.

He nodded. “I do.”

She fiddled with his fingers before grasping his hands in hers. “Just make me one promise, because I don’t think you can keep that one.”

He frowned. “What promise do you want from me?”

“Promise if something does happen to me, you won’t turn to dark magic, either to get your revenge or to bring me back.”

“I promise,” he said, and he meant it. He knew his heart would break, but he had striven for so long to be the man she believed in. If this is what she wanted from him, he would give it to her, even if she wasn’t alive to see it. Molly lowered her feet back on the ground and gently tugged him closer, and before he knew it they were kissing, a kiss full of more than either of them could say. Their lives were irreversibly changed by all this, and the future was so unclear. But at least, for as long as he was lucky, he knew he’d have her in it. That was the promise this kiss made for him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Who are we looking for again?” Molly asked, pulling her coat tighter around her. It was chilly this time of year anyway, but it seemed as though the weather was colder on the Isle of Wight than it was in the whole of the rest of the country. He and Molly had managed to get a good deal on a cottage in Yarmouth, as that was close enough to where the girl was supposed to be but far enough away they could have some privacy as well. If nothing else, it was a tad bit of a holiday, at least.

“Phryne Macmillan,” he said with a frown. This was supposed to be a bustling tourist area in the summer, and he had thought even now, in the fall, there would be people about. But the main area of Yarmouth looked deserted. “Merlin had said she’s staying with a distant aunt, as her parents have passed.”

“Poor girl,” she said, deciding after a moment to reach out and take Sherlock’s hand in hers. Even though it was damn near winter temperatures, Molly wanted the warmth of his hand. That warmed him a bit. 

They hadn’t talked much about her demotion or the promise he had made after Merlin had left, but they had been on his mind. She deserved more. She deserved the world, to be quite honest, and as his power grew he knew he could give it all to her, anything she wanted. But that was the point of her asking him for the request he not turn to dark magic if anything happened to her. The power he had was strong and could tip in either direction given certain motivating factors. What was to stop him from tipping to the bad side to keep her safe? To grant her immortality and invulnerability like he had? He could make a deal with the Dark One just as Moriarty had to curse him, or he could study dark texts and do it himself.

But she knew there was goodness in him, and light, and she wanted him to stay that way, even if she lost everything, up to and including her life. And for her, he would, no matter how tempting it was to do otherwise.

For now, though, the matter at hand was to find Phryne Macmillan and keep her safe. He had the feeling simply removing her from the Isle of Wight and taking her to London wouldn’t keep her safe, and if it did it would only place some other child in jeopardy. No, they had to break the curse that drew the children out like the Pied Piper and took the life of one of them.

Sherlock was going to reply when there was an impact between him and someone who had been running. The person that ran into him was a child, a young boy, and he stared up at Sherlock before pointing behind him. “The witch is coming!” he said.

“Which witch?” Molly asked, kneeling down to his level.

“The Macmillan girl!” he said.

“Well, that solves one of our problems,” Sherlock said. “You deal with him, I’ll nab us a witch.”

“Sorceress,” Molly said with a half smile, looking up at Sherlock.

He grinned back and then moved away from Molly and the boy. He had the feeling Molly might work a bit of undetectable magic to put the boy at ease, but no more than that. She had enough charm with children to get any information the boy might offer without magic, to be honest. He made his way down the road until he could hear the sound of scuffling in an alley between two buildings. There was a gaggle of children of all ages, and a young girl with red hair pulling at the ponytail of an older girl while having her foot on her back. “Stop calling me a witch!” the ginger girl said.

“Fine, you’re a _bitch_!” the blonde girl on the ground said, wrenching free of the other girl’s grip. “A right bitch!”

“Children,” Sherlock said, and all of a sudden there was a moment where everyone went still and then proceeded to scatter, all except the little ginger. The blonde took the longest, spitting at the little girl one last time before hurrying off after everyone else.

“I could have handled it, you know,” the girl said, crossing her arms and looking up at Sherlock. She couldn’t have been more than seven, but she seemed far more worldly than her age belied. And then it appeared as though she _really_ looked at Sherlock. He had hoped she would recognize one of her own, and she seemed to because she uncrossed her arms and gave him a curious look. “Did you use magic to scare them off?”

He shook his head. “No. I try not to waste it.”

“Me neither,” she said. “Dunno when I’m gonna need it.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “It’s almost dark. Shouldn’t you be at home?”

Phryne shrugged. “No one cares,” she said quietly. “They aren’t even family. Just said they were to get sympathy.”

He pursed his lips together. “Do they know you have powers?”

“I don’t think so,” Phryne said, shaking her head.

“Do you want to stay?” Sherlock said.

Phryne scoffed. “I could do better on my own.”

“You’re...what, seven at most?” Sherlock asked.

Phryne waggled her fingers at him. “ _Magic,_ ” she said, drawing the word out.

“And a young girl who would most likely get exploited.” He heard movement from the mouth of the alley and saw Molly approaching. “Did you soothe the boy?”

“He thought your friend there put a hex on him,” Molly said with a smile. “She did. A small one to make him break out in a pox. I reversed it. He’ll be fine.”

“He pulled my hair!” Phryne said, pouting. “He deserved it.”

“I think we need to pay a visit to her guardians,” Sherlock said. Phryne’s eyes went wide. “She needs more training if she’s going to be tossing hexes about.”

Phryne eyed him suspiciously. “Why should I go with you?” she asked.

“You sense you can trust us,” Sherlock said simply. “Or else you wouldn’t have confirmed you were a sorceress.”

“Witch,” she countered.

“You’re descended from the great wizard Merlin,” Sherlock said. “I know because he sent me here to find you and break a curse.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s real? He’s really real?”

“Yes,” Molly said. “Are your guardians kind?”

“No,” Phryne said softly. She raised the sleeve of her shirt and they could both see faint bruises in the shape of fingers curled around her arm. Molly got an angry look on her face and Sherlock felt his blood boil. He didn’t care about much, but someone abusing their power of a young child was one of the few things that would incite violence in him.

“Sherlock, look,” Molly said, kneeling down next to Sherlock and looking at the bruise more closely. Sherlock knelt down to Phryne’s level and looked at it as well. There was a sickly glowing quality to the bruise that wasn’t visible with regular sight.

“Take her to the cottage,” Sherlock said as he stood. “Call Mycroft, tell him to begin the transfer of Phryne’s guardianship to me. Or you, if you prefer. But we need her out of that home immediately. That’s the mark of a hag.”

“What?” Phryne asked, sounding scared.

“If you stay with your guardians, you’ll be in harm’s way,” Molly explained soothingly. “I’m going to keep you safe while Sherlock takes care of the problem.” Molly stood and offered Phryne her hand. “Do you trust me?”

Phryne looked back at Sherlock, then back to Molly, nodding as she took her hand. “Yes.”

“Then I vow I will keep you safe,” Molly said. “Let’s hurry. I don’t think you want to see what Sherlock is going to do.” Molly then turned to him. “Be safe, alright? You’re immortal but you can still be hurt.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, and with that promise, Molly began to lead Phryne away. He could feel the mist and fog close in and then set off in search of a hag. They had a lengthy and painful discussion ahead of them...or at least painful for _them_.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock knew his curls were singed and there were scratches on his skin and scorch marks on his clothes with a few burns here and there, but he didn’t care. The hag was no more, but it hadn’t been a fight without cost.

And more questions.

He was quiet going into the house they were renting for this trip and entered the sitting room to see Molly attempting to read a book. He could tell she was attempting because her eyes kept flickering to the window, in order to see him come in. But he had come from the opposite direction and used the entrance to the kitchen so she hadn’t yet realized he was back. When he cleared his throat Molly jumped and then her eyes widened when she got a good look at him. “Sherlock!” she said, worry in her voice.

“The hag is dead,” he said. “Burnt to ashes, along with the home. She was tossing fire around like it was no big deal at all, and I had to contain it to the home to make sure the whole town didn’t burn.”

Molly came up to him and gently cupped his cheek as she looked him over. “Phryne’s things?” she asked.

“Should have come here,” he said with a frown. “For someone who had access to the store of magic inside Phryne, the hag didn’t keep the home magically protected. They didn’t limit Phryne’s movements, and aside from the mark on her arm, there was no sign they were siphoning power from her. But the hag was more powerful than most.”

Molly nodded, beginning to unbutton Sherlock’s damaged shirt to look at his chest. He knew tomorrow sections of it would be purpling with bruises; the hag hadn’t only thrown fire to fight him. He was fairly sure at least one of his ribs was cracked, and Molly would soon find his shoulder was dislocated. “So it was siphoning off magic from somewhere else?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “Which makes me think Phryne’s not free from whatever the curse may hold.” Molly finished unbuttoning the shirt and winced. Oh, he must look a sight. “Has Merlin tried to come here?”

Molly nodded. “I told him Phryne had used magic, and he said under most circumstances that would be enough for him to interact with her, but while he can sense her powers better now he can’t come here to see her.”

“More evidence that there’s more to this curse than the hag,” Sherlock said. “I need Merlin.”

“You could go to his workshop,” Molly suggested. “You know time works differently there. But let me tend these wounds and fix your shoulder first, alright?”

“I don’t feel right leaving the two of you alone,” Sherlock said with a frown.

“What if your physical body is here?” Molly asked, pursing her lips when she was done. “I haven’t attempted the spell, but it sounds easy enough. Your consciousness would go to Merlin, but if I need you here I can reverse the spell to bring you back.” She gently began to guide him to a chair. He knew it was going to hurt to fix his shoulder, but it needed to be done. “And perhaps while you’re lying down I can work some healing magic on you.”

“You’ve gone farther in your studies?” he asked, looking up at her once he was seated.

She nodded. “Remember that spell to help me with my studies? Merlin gave me books on healing herbs and healing spells after you started to have the visions. Just in case...well, just in case you got hurt and he couldn’t join us.”

“Fortuitous timing, then,” Sherlock said. Molly got into the position to fix his shoulder, and Sherlock braced himself for the jolt of pain he knew he would feel. He managed to only make a small grunting sound when she did it, but apparently, it was enough to wake up their house guest. “My apologies,” he said when Phryne cautiously made her way out to them.

Phryne looked at them with wide eyes. “What the bloody hell happened to you?”

“The fake family who took you in,” Sherlock said.

Phryne sat in the chair across from him and pulled her feet up on the seat, grasping her knees. “You look like hell.”

“I feel as though I was there, yes,” Sherlock said, testing his now reset shoulder. “But to keep you safe, it’s worth it.”

“So she’s gone?” Phryne asked. “Or...it?”

Sherlock nodded. “Burnt to ashes. I have cuts and I’ll be sore and bruised in the morning, but you’re safer.”

“But not safe?” Phryne asked.

“Not until I get the curse reversed, no,” Sherlock said. “But I’m going to work on it.”

Phryne nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Molly had left them and now came back with a cold compress, putting it on one of the burns. It wasn’t a major burn, but it would still be uncomfortable. “You’ll need to trim my hair, Molly.”

Molly nodded, running her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “I know you liked your curls.”

“Perhaps shorter hair will be easier to maintain,” he said.

“Maybe if you straighten it you’ll look more like that bloke in the Star Trek movie,” Phryne said.

“You like Star Trek?” Molly asked her with a smile.

Phryne nodded. “I like science fiction and fantasy pretty equally. My mum used to tell me all the myths from all over the world, too, so I like that type of stories, too.”

“Do you like to read?” she asked.

Phryne’s eyes lit up. “I’ve read all the books at the library. I was able to read when I was little and I just...haven’t stopped.”

“If you want to practice magic later, I can make you a special book like mine,” Molly said. “It can become any book you want. Normally it’s just for magical texts, but I made one for fun books, too. We can do the same for you.”

“Okay,” Phryne said with a small smile. Molly’s smile grew wider and Sherlock knew, then, that there was no better place for Phryne to be than with Molly. Or with them, if things continued much the way it had been going. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, having someone else in his life to care for. But first, he had to lift this curse and fulfill his promise to keep her safe.


	4. Chapter 4

It took some time for the damage he’d had inflicted to be set as much to rights as possible, but eventually, Phryne went back to bed and Molly had him lie down on the sofa and close his eyes. He’d thought he’d need to go into a trance or something like that, but once she started reciting the spell to let his consciousness roam to Merlin’s workshop he felt himself detach from his body and hover over it. Within a moment Molly completed the spell with the destination in mind, and he was gone.

In an instant, he found himself in the now familiar workshop. He had never been to where it was above ground of the workshop, but Merlin assured both he and Molly it was for the best because as long as they could access it via a magical transport spell or a magical door they need never know where Camelot actually stood. The location of that much stored magic could be dangerous in the wrong hands, he’d said, and they both knew it was true from what they’d gone through so far since getting their powers.

Merlin was sitting cross-legged, hovering in the air with a giant tome in his lap. “Hello, Sherlock. Molly’s been practicing, I see,” he said without looking up.

“She has. A bit more than me, I expect.”

“Her magic is not as intuitive is yours is, or at least it isn’t yet.” He flipped a page. “We’re dealing with the fae. And not the Light Court, either.”

“Wonderful,” Sherlock muttered.

“Well, taking out the hag should have allowed me to travel to the village and begin Phryne’s lessons. The fact that it didn’t means there was more to the curse than that pitiful being, so I did research. I have yet to find the particular fae who cursed the village, but I’m sure I will eventually.”

“Before another child disappears?” Sherlock asked.

This time Merlin lifted up his head. “I’m not sure.”

“You know Molly and I have boons from the fae,” Sherlock said. “We could use one of them for the Light Court’s interference in the matter. They may be best equipped to undo a curse by the Dark Court.”

Merlin tilted his head. “It’s a possibility, but I’d prefer you save the boons if at all possible unless you feel like bringing your brother here and using his.”

Sherlock snorted at that. “Mycroft is holding onto his boon until it’s a deathly emergency.”

“Your brother always did strike me as the type to be practical with something like that,” Merlin said with a short laugh. “You didn’t.”

“Phryne is worth it, though,” he replied.

“You’ve connected with the girl already?”

“Not as much as Molly. While she was tending my wounds the two of them were in a debate about Star Trek versus Star Wars.” He smiled a small smile. “Most of it went over my head, but Phryne seemed relaxed for the first time since we met. Not on edge or passively hostile.”

“And she really has no family?”

“The hag bragged she’d killed her mother and father six months ago so she could siphon her power. No siblings, either. She was an only child.”

Merlin shook his head. “She deserves better.”

“Molly will make sure she gets it.” He floated over to the book and read over Merlin’s shoulder before pointing. “There.”

“There are thousands of words on these pages, Sherlock,” Merlin said, turning to face him. “How did you know where to look?”

“Speed reading has its uses,” Sherlock said. “It looks as though it’s a member of the Royal Court who cursed the village.”

Merlin nodded as he turned back to the page. “Kheelan. He has a reputation of sorts. If you thought Alvarie was formidable, he’s worse. He’s a Knight. He’ll fight before he relinquishes his curse.”

“Then we need a Champion.”

Merlin pursed his lips and then shut the book. “Molly should use her boon if she’s willing. Because you will indeed need a boon to get Odelina. She has far to travel. As far as I can recall, she’s the only one in the Light Court to have bested Kheelan.”

Sherlock nodded. “I’ll let her know.”

“Before you go, Sherlock...” Merlin set his feet on the ground and walked to his workbench. He picked up an amulet and tossed it in Sherlock’s direction. Surprised, he reached out to catch it and did, his eyes going wide. “For Phryne. If this goes to Hell, she’ll be safe from the curse if she wears that.”

“Very well,” he said. He gripped the amulet tightly and thought about going back to where his body was, and soon he was there, hovering above it before sinking back into his body and blinking his eyes. When he looked at his hand, he saw the amulet materialize in his grip. Molly’s eyes widened as he handed it to her. “For Phryne, to protect her from the curse in case Plan A fails.”

“And just what is Plan A?” Molly asked.

“We use your boon with the fae to enlist the help of Odelina as our Champion against the Dark Fae who cast the curse.”

Molly nodded. “Do we need to go to the woods to contact the fae in this area?”

“Most likely. But tomorrow. The child won’t be chosen for two more days. For now, I need to rest.” He yawned. “I wasn’t this tired when I left.”

“Healing sleep,” Molly said with a smile. She kissed his cheek and stood up. “Sink into it and tomorrow you’ll be as good as new.” Then she ran her fingers through his curls. “Almost.”

He nodded and let himself sink into the healing sleep as he saw Molly sit down at the kitchen table and study her magic book. Part of him felt it was not a good idea to let himself go into so deep a sleep, but he had the feeling Molly would act like a ferocious she-wolf if any trouble came their way, and he felt satisfied it would be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

He woke up with the sun full on his face and the excited chatter of two females to his side. Or rather, in the kitchen; it must be a late breakfast for them, he gathered. But when he woke up he didn’t see food, but he saw Molly and Phryne poring over two nearly identical sized books.

“Sleeping Beauty woke up,” Phryne said with a grin after a moment.

“You’re a rather sassy young girl,” Sherlock said, setting his feet down on the ground and stretching for a moment. “I approve.”

Molly chuckled at that. “I thought since Merlin isn’t available to us yet I might see what kind of sorceress she is. She’s more like you than me so you may have to handle helping her craft spells.”

“Molly said you can just make them up as you go?” Phryne asked, closing the book. “That’s true?”

He nodded. “I have a store of languages I know, so as long as I can figure out the language I need I just...think, speak and it happens.” He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling it was singed. “How many languages do you know?”

“English and Welsh,” she said. “I was teaching myself Spanish when my mum and dad died.” She frowned at that. “With the thing dead, where am I going to go?”

“London, with us, if you’d like,” Molly said. “It’s your choice, but it would make your training easier.”

Sherlock didn’t say that really Phryne didn’t _have_ a choice, because there was no way in hell he was leaving her here unattended with no guardians, but he recognized what Molly was trying to do, to give her some agency. But it was a moot point as Phryne nodded. “I’d like to learn more,” she said.

“Good,” Sherlock said. He looked over at Molly, voicing his next words tentatively. “You’re both welcome to stay at Baker Street.”

“I’m thinking that might be best,” Molly said, giving him a reassuring smile. “John and I were talking and he’s interested in staying at my home if I move into Baker Street permanently. It’s a bit fast, but it’s safest in the long run.” Sherlock felt a sense of relief at her words. Not just that she would be staying at Baker Street, but that she was thinking of the safety of all of them. He was now more convinced than ever she would be the best guardian for Phryne. But her next words knocked him for a loop. “I suppose we should see about marriage.”

“Marriage?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “Both of us being unmarried just makes things complicated. And it’s not as though we didn’t know we’d be linked for life now. And you do love me, right?”

“I do,” he said.

“Well, I love you too. Even though this is all a bit fast, it just seems...right.” She said it as though the decision had been made for her and for him as well. “So we’ll talk to your brother about rushing through a marriage license before we get guardianship established.”

“No wedding?” he asked.

“No need,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t have many people to invite, and it’s just going to be a quick ceremony. We can find a church to have our vows said in and--”

“No,” Sherlock said. He got up off the sofa and moved to her. “If I’m going to marry you there will be a ceremony, I’ll be suited and you can be in a dress of your choosing.” He kissed the top of her head. “You deserve _something_ after being stuck with me for life.”

“I am not _stuck_ with you, Sherlock,” she said, looking up at him. “I could walk away at any point. Find others who will take on my education. Safeguard another home somewhere. I’m _choosing_ to stay with you because I love you more than you know, you git.”

Sherlock was about to say something when Phryne giggled. “You two are just like my mum and dad were,” she said. “That’s a good sign.”

“I’m glad we have your approval,” Sherlock said with a wry grin. 

“At least you aren’t at each other’s throats like the thing was with this creature that kept coming by.”

Sherlock turned to her. “What creature?”

“It was tall and pale with long black hair and pointed ears,” she said. “Usually wore chain mail of some sort. It was a right arse about things, too. Wanted me to himself, he said, but the hag claimed finder’s rights.”

Sherlock pursed his lips. Suddenly he had the feeling the amulet may do little to keep her from Kheelan’s clutches. But it was best if she put it on. He motioned to her chest. “Did Molly give you an amulet to wear?”

Phryne moved her hands to the back of her neck and pulled a chain up, and soon the amulet came into view. “Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t take it off. Merlin made it to protect you from the curse but I have the feeling it may not be enough. Still, if it’s any help, then it’s worth wearing.”

“I won’t take it off,” she said. She let it drop to the front of her shirt. “So...what do we do about the curse?”

“We get help,” Sherlock said. “Tonight. And you come with us, Phryne. I think the fae might have an interest in you.”

“Are you sure?” Molly asked.

“I think it’s in her best interest,” he said. “If the fae knows why we’re using the boon, then Odelina will fight harder to keep Phryne out of Kheelan’s clutches.”

“Alright,” Molly said with a nod. Sherlock wandered away from the two of them further into the kitchen, looking for something to eat as he began to wonder if this would all go well before dashing the thoughts out of his head. Best not to dwell on it and start preparing a Plan B in case Plan A didn’t work.


	6. Chapter 6

That evening, the three of them made their way to a fairy circle Sherlock had spotted near the hag’s abode. When they got there, he cast the spell he and Molly had been taught to trade in their boon. Within moments, a beautiful sea-foam green elf with silver hair stood in the circle. “Well met, William.”

“Well met,” Sherlock replied. “We have come to exchange one of our boons given freely for the service of Odelina as our champion against the dark fae Kheelan, who has cast a curse on this village.”

The corners of the elf’s mouth dipped. “Alas, Odelina is no more. She was bested in combat and her body lies in repose in her homeland realm.”

Sherlock bit back a curse. This meant Plan B, which he didn’t really want to do. “What other choices do we have in using our boon to defeat Kheelan?”

“Who is exchanging the boon?” the elf asked.

“I am,” Molly said, stepping forward. “For the protection of another of Merlin’s heirs.”

Phryne stepped next to Molly, and suddenly there seemed to be a choir of ethereal voices in the air, speaking a language none of them understood. After a moment it quieted down and the elf spoke. “Margaret, you can become the champion for Merlin’s heir.”

“No,” Sherlock said. “I’ll be the champion.”

“It will not work that way, William, unless you are willing to exchange your boon.”

Molly laid a hand on Sherlock’s arm. “It’s fine, Sherlock. I’ll be fine.”

“Not if he kills you!” Sherlock said, desperate for her to see why he was so scared. “I can’t...”

“You won’t break your promise, will you?” Molly said. “You’ll have Phryne to think about.”

Sherlock shut his eyes. “This isn’t right,” he said.

“Oh William, you wish to be bonded with Margaret, do you not?” the fae asked. “That can be arranged, and in that bond, Margaret will be able to draw from your power just as you are able to draw from hers, for in your bonding an older curse will be broken, one laid on the house of Merlin and the house of Le Fay.”

“What?” Molly and Sherlock chorused, both of them surprised at the fae’s words.

There was a peal of light laughter, like a small bell tinkling. “Do you not know that even now, Margaret carries your heir, William? And none of our kind, not even dark fae, will take the life of an unborn child, as children are precious to all of us.”

“You’re better than a pregnancy test,” Phryne piped in as Molly’s hands moved to her abdomen.

“Do you see the wisdom in having Margaret be the Champion you seek?” the fae asked Sherlock.

“If he won’t fight her physically, he’ll fight her other ways,” Sherlock said slowly. “None of which will harm her. He’ll be forced into an honourable fight.”

“Yes, William.” The fae raised her hands and soon the forest around them was filled with many members of the light court. “Let the King and Queen of this realm bless your union and break the curse on your families, so that your heir may be protected and blessed.” She smiled over at Phryne. “Both of them.”

“Phryne too?” Molly asked, and the fae nodded. “Good.”

Soon two fae with the stature of those in command came forward and the green elf moved away, and they began speaking in the language Sherlock and Molly did not understand, their hands above the heads of the two of them. Their height allowed Sherlock and Molly to remain standing upright, and soon Sherlock felt warmth infuse him as he glowed blue. Molly herself was glowing a vibrant green, and at once the glow faded but the warmth remained. Then the two fae gave each of them a petal and a leaf. “Eat these, and you will understand the world as never before,” the one who was the queen said.

Sherlock put the petal and the leaf in his mouth, thinking he would need to chew them, but they dissolved on his tongue like candy floss, and soon he could understand the chirping sounds the birds made and the language of the beasts. He could hear the trees whispering in the winds, and he could see things too. “Thank you for your blessing,” he said in the language he had previously not understood but did now.

“You are most welcome, William,” the king of the fae said. Then he turned to Molly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She glowed again, a vibrant yellow that radiated out of her midsection to cover the whole of her, and after a moment the king did the same to Sherlock. There was a feeling of coolness to his lips but warmth infused him again. “You have our protection now.”

“Thank you,” Molly said. 

“Come forth, young descendant of Merlin,” the queen said, smiling to Phryne.

Phryne took a cautious step forward and was given her own petal and leaf. She repeated the actions that Molly and Sherlock had done, and when she was done the king leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as well. She glowed yellow, but not as brightly as the adults. “She will still be called by the ghostly children to come and play,” the king said as he straightened, “but she may be able to resist without influence from others.”

“Thank you,” Molly said. She turned to Sherlock as two other elves came on either side, holding small pillows on which sat rings.

“We know these are a symbol humans wear to show their betrothal to another human,” the queen said. “These are made of fairy gold and set with precious stones never given to humans before. Wear them as a sign your union has been blessed by the fae.”

Sherlock took the ring off his pillow, which was obviously meant for Molly, and then slipped it onto her ring finger. It was big at first and then with a shimmer shrunk to fit her finger perfectly. Molly did the same to him with the ring on the pillow in front of her and his ring resized itself as well. Then, with no further pomp, the creatures began to fade back into the forest, leaving only a glowing fairy circle as evidence that they had ever been in the vicinity.

“You know, we don’t need to do the ceremony with our friends,” Molly said, reaching over for Sherlock’s hand and entwining her fingers in his.

“Nonsense,” he said. 

“Have it your way,” she said with a smile, squeezing his hand. He could feel a slight tremor in her hand and knew that even though she was more confident about the situation, it was not the best situation. Still, with the blessings and protection of the king and queen of this realm, perhaps they stood a chance.


	7. Chapter 7

The next evening, Sherlock kept a close eye on Phryne, waiting for the sign that she was being called to the shore with the other children. He barely tasted the food Molly had made for them, too nervous to do much more than eat robotically and fiddle with his wedding ring. He had laid in bed next to Molly the night before, holding her close and not sleeping, knowing that even though the fae of the Light Court in this realm had given her protection it might not be enough. That even though she was pregnant with his child, she could still be taken from him. He didn’t trust anything from the Dark Court further than he could throw them.

But soon he saw something wash over Phryne and she stopped her sentence in the middle of a word and pushed her seat back. “It’s time,” she said. “It’s calling.”

“What is?” Molly asked, pushing her own seat back.

“The song of the sea,” she replied.

“I hear it,” Sherlock murmured.

“I do too,” Molly replied. Apparently, the blessings allowed them to be privy to elven magic now, or at least this particular spell. “Sherlock, get your violin.”

Sherlock thought for a moment, trying to remember exactly where he had left it in Baker Street, and then cast the spell to transport it to him. It worked rather like the teleportation spell except it brought things from one place to another as opposed to people. Within a moment, his violin case was on the kitchen table and he grabbed it as Phryne began to move towards the back door.

He and Molly followed, and as they got closer to the village they saw the fog was thicker than it had been any other night but there were dark figures walking all in the same direction. The melody that was heard only by the two of them and the children of the village grew louder as they cut through the village and out to the shore. Sherlock had thought that the child would be chosen near the docks or something like that, but instead, the children walked along the beach to a rocky alcove where the fog was considerably lighter. What few children they could see clearly had a glazed look in their eyes, one that was largely absent from Phryne.

“Are you in control?” Sherlock asked her as the fog finally parted.

“Mostly,” she said, reaching up to touch the amulet. Then she stopped. “More when I touch the amulet.”

“Then keep touching it. I think Molly has a plan.”

Standing atop the alcove was a fae just as Phryne had described, an imposing figure with dark hair, though with full-on armor on instead of just chainmail. He started to speak before the fog cleared to reveal Sherlock and Molly in the back with Phryne, and then his serious face broke into a frightful smile. “Ah. Not even the great Merlin’s magic saved his heir.”

“Shut your hole, you cunt,” Phryne spat out, glaring at him. Sherlock almost wanted to admonish her for her language, but it seemed to have the effect of shocking Kheelan into silence. He took a step back and Phryne advanced, still holding the amulet. “I have a Champion and we challenge you to honourable combat, you twit.”

“You obstinate child!” Kheelan sputtered. “When I seize you I’ll--”

“As she said, shut your hole,” Molly said, cutting him off. “I am her champion, and I challenge you. You must accept.” Molly seemed to grow in stature until she was the same height as the elven royalty who had visited them the night before, taller even than Kheelan. “I am with child, and by oaths taken by all elven kind, I cannot be harmed.”

Kheelan glared at her. “This is Light Court trickery,” he spat out.

“Have you no honour?” Molly said. “If so, forfeit your claim on the village and walk away as the one known as Honourless.”

“I have honour,” he replied, though sullenly. “Very well. How will we have combat?”

“Spellcraft set to music,” Molly said. She reached over and put her hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, and he was seized with the urge to play music he couldn’t perceive. The case of his violin was gone and his bow was in hand as the violin went under the chin, with seemingly magic of its own, and Molly began to sing.

He had never really heard her sing and he had no idea if her voice was really this lovely, but it was as though the sounds of a choir of angels flowed from her throat, and he played in perfect counterpoint to the music coming from the sea in harmony with her voice.

In response the music from the sea got louder as Kheelan lent his voice to it, coming in waves of crescendos crashing on his ears. He almost couldn’t hear Molly until she raised her own volume, the choir disappearing and one single, pristine voice rose above the roar of music against him. The higher she sang the more pure energy flowed from them, bright yellow against the dark grey and black surrounding them. It jumped from child to child, filling them and eventually engulfing them, as it began to make it’s way to the rocky alcove and Kheelan.

When a tendril of the yellow light touched him his song broke off in a screech of agony, and Molly’s song got stronger, louder, as the children added their voices. Soon he was knocked off balance into the waves below him. With a final pure note, their music stopped, and Molly began to shrink back to her normal size as the children looked bewildered.

“The curse is broken,” Molly said in a multi-tonal voice before she went back to her normal size and the yellow light faded. “All is well.”

“All is _not_ well!” came a ravaged cry from the alcove. Though he had been battered across the rocks Kheelan did not look too worse for wear, and he extended a stream of dark black energy to Phryne, pulling her into the water before either of the adults could even register what had happened.

The minute they did, though, Sherlock raced to the alcove and dove into the only safe place there to swim after Phryne. He could see the girl trying to hold her breath and struggling against the grip of the fae, even as darkness surrounded them. He reached for her outstretched hand and soon both of them were pulled down, down into the dark depth. In a last-ditch effort to free them both, he touched his wedding band to the fae and there was a flash of bright light and then...darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

“If you call my husband a half-drowned rat again I’m going to hit you, Merlin, and you won’t like it.”

“What if I said he was an alien-looking half-drowned rat?”

“Merlin!” 

Sherlock felt warm. A radiating warmth as opposed to the cold he had felt when he plunged into the water. “I am no rat,” he said, his voice weak as he sat up, realizing he was wrapped in blankets and every heater in the rented vacation cottage was on. 

“Damn right he isn’t,” Phryne piped in. “He saved my life.”

“Well, if Sleeping Beauty isn’t awake,” Merlin said, his tone jovial.

“I get to call him Sleeping Beauty,” Phryne said. He looked over and saw she was wrapped in a thick quilt, though not as tightly as he was, and she was sitting up with a mug in her hands. “My nickname, not yours.”

Merlin lifted up his hands in mock defeat, a smile on his face. “You saved the day once again, Sherlock,” he said before dropping his hands. “Once the curse was broken I was able to come here and Molly and I were ready to deliver grievous wounds to the less than honourable dark fae when there was a burst of light and the ocean spit you two out onto the shore.”

“And Kheelan?” Sherlock asked as he sat up with Molly’s help.

“There’s going to be pieces of him floating onshore for a little bit, though he’s mostly foam now. Whatever it was you did, it managed to strike a killing blow.”

“I just touched my wedding band to him,” he said.

“Let me see,” Merlin said. Sherlock pulled his hand away from holding the blanket in place and showed the ring to Merlin. “You’ve been doubly blessed, Sherlock,” Merlin said, his eyes wide. “You have star stone in that band. It’s the most valuable gem in all the fairy realms, capable of great power.”

“I have the same stone set in mine,” Molly said.

“ _I_ don’t even have access to star stone,” Merlin said, dropping Sherlock’s hand gently back onto his lap. “That means you are, for all intents and purposes, elvish champions. Both of you. Only their warriors are given star stone to harness and focus their powers and magnify it a thousandfold.”

“But why?” Molly asked, her brows knitting together. “Why were we picked?”

“I have a different question,” Sherlock said. “What curse did we break by getting married?”

“The two answers tie together,” Merlin said. “I did more digging through the lineage of Le Fay and I found that at some point after Arthur was taken to his final resting place, a curse was laid on both of our family lineages. ‘Never the two should merge until the rightful heir met his newfound Queen.’” Merlin rubbed the back of his neck.

“Rightful heir? Queen?” Molly asked. “Is Camelot coming back?”

“I have no idea. But somehow, you two are royalty of some sort in the eyes of the fae. The fact you’re with child, Molly, means that the lines are now merging, which is...interesting.”

“How so?” Sherlock asked. 

“Despite the tales that have been told, there was a prophecy that Camelot would fall but be reborn. Perhaps that’s why the Dark One doesn’t want you around. The return of Camelot, in some shape or form, would be bad news for their hold on the world today.”

Molly bit the inside of her mouth for a moment and then spoke. “The fae said I could draw on Sherlock’s power as he draws on mine. Am I...does that make me immortal as well?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. It was a curse that rendered Sherlock immortal, not a blessing. Though...if we can’t rid it of him, perhaps there is a chance immortality could be in your future. I don’t know. This entire situation is unheard of.” He stood up then. “I suppose training can wait until the three of you return to London, but it _will_ need to continue. The three of you and the child Molly is carrying could be more important than any of us realized.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said. Merlin teleported out of the room after that and he turned to Phryne. “Any regrets so far?”

Phryne shook her head. “Not if I’m anywhere near as powerful as you are. Dark fae can’t kick my arse if I’m powerful.”

He gave her a faint smile before turning to Molly. “And you?”

“Absolutely no regrets,” she said, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“Good,” he said, shutting his eyes and letting the warmth sink in more. This was merely a pause. The real work would begin as soon as he and his new family returned to London...and he wasn’t sure whether he looked forward to it or dreaded it.


End file.
